


Lux

by Vixenility



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: But this was something no one asked for, F/F, Fluff, I dunno what other tags to put, Romance, alternative universe, you're welcome!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23660029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixenility/pseuds/Vixenility
Summary: Aerith's destiny takes a shift when she wakes up blind, and meets -- for the first time -- Tifa Lockhart, the woman to shake her world.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart
Comments: 21
Kudos: 103





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first Aerith/Tifa work.
> 
> This was spawned out of a horrible stubborn challenge I put myself. The challenge was to take anything from a fic or article I read (I choose blindness), take a pairing i've been meaning to dip my toes in (This one), and do it within two hours. Thus the abrupt ending.

  
Aerith was not born blind but turned so by mere misfortune. However, she could still count and she counted each blessing nonetheless. 

It was that or gamble her life for sight, which she would not want to see the results of. A terrible accident, see. It was caused by someone else's indiscretion, which they had paid in-full with their own life burnt to a crisp and stuck within the melting metals and leather of car. Aerith lost her sight and had her ankle bandaged still, repaired and healing. She could take that over anything.

To open her weary lids and see absolutely nothing was an impact at first, an impact met with teary eyes and consolation by the nurses who had been nothing but sweet to the happy-go-lucky patient. Aerith felt hands calming her but she grew highly insecure and uncomfortable, shooing everyone out of the room and holding herself.

It was natural to be afraid of what she could not see, lying vulnerable in a hospital gown with nothing under it and tubes and bandages placed god knows where. But that was the problem, she didn't even know the magnitude of her own abilities, let alone the magnitude of her own injuries. Her ankle throbbed and parts of her face hurt with that peculiar sting of pain, but she could not feel anything else. Then, the heartbreaking realizations would come one by one. She would not be able to see her friend's face for the rest of her life, she would not be able to see the face of her future spouse (whoever she or he may be, if they dare to put up with a blind Aerith re-learning life). Worst of all, she would not be able to see the colors of her flowers, the healthy glow they emanate, the way they bright up a child's day, the way it brights up any living room, any room, the way it brights up -- with its little rays of healthy optimism -- her hospital room.

It took tears, it took tantrums and angry profanities thrown at whoever was the almighty being in charge of her. She grieved the death of her own eyes with the caring touch of her friends who came to visit. Like she was born blind, she would have to fair with the cards she had been dealt with. 

Sooner than later, she would come to find out something strange. It came to her when, while morosely thinking about the difficulties and obstacles of her life, she grabbed a fork placed before her out of habit. Then she really felt it. 

Its color was a shining silver, just recently washed and haphazardly dried by the way she could still feel the humidity pooling just below the dazzling curvatures of the silverware. The fine engravings of the fork was one of a flower extending -- no, dancing -- across its length until it twisted in the very end to make a pointy decorative end. The fork in itself was slim and light. She has never seen it before, but she could see it before her eyes. Just the way she slowly imagined the fork, she imagined the plate of food a caring nurse put before her, she touched and felt the warm plate of soup before she could even ask what it was -- somehow intuiting that the bowl was a light blue color, feeling it was made of ceramic, sturdy and spotless. Just like that, the sudden darkness in her eyes was no longer so dark nor unintelligible, rather an abstract concept made out of her own imagination. A restless, vivacious imagination that had taken a bit too long to take the wheel. The ticking clock ticked away in a wall far off from her right, probably held up on a dull white wall above a dull white flooring, probably also a dull design to match up with everything else. The cold air of the hospital room flowed and waved under the complex bed and dashed past the tables beside her, engulfing the nearest plastic stool in its cold claws and turning it into a torture device for the next person to sit without warm trousers.

Suddenly, everything had a color and place.

The voices from her friends had their faces moving about, twisting and contorting with the complex emotions of their voices. A slight change in tone in their voices was suddenly noticeable, it instantly showed in her face. The memory of their faces showed her what she needed to see before, what she was yearning to see again. 

However, she figured that strangers would not have faces in her mind, right? Just a blurry interpretation of a face and some generic features. Unless she touched it, she would find out.

Well, one night, just a few ticks after eight -- when visiting hours finished --, a nurse came into the room. Aerith could tell by the sound of the doorknob, the subtle sigh from whoever was coming in, the sound of shoes softly pressing against the recently dried floor. The nurse made her presence known by a soft 'Hi' which Aerith returned cordially, with a wave of her hand going in general direction.

"How are you feeling today?" 

And then the face came to her mind. 

Aerith felt her heart stop just for a little bit. A beautiful pair of eyes perfectly proportionated and meticulously aligned with her ears, a soft pair of lips, a raven black curtain that decorated her face with a touch of motherly elegance. How to explain such a vivid image in words? Aerith was not silver-tongued nor was she given the skills of an artiste to recreate that vivid piece of art, but she knows that the rest of the world is either damned from not looking at the beauty she just envisioned or perpetually blessed to be able to see it -- if her, uh, supernatural ability were to be any reliable. This image was either a fabrication or a palpable reality.

Either way, that voice had sent a soft jolt of electricity all over her sore body, springing it into motion despite being confined to a bed for a day or two more.

"Aerith?"

The flower girl, with messy curls of hair twisting and flowing in their messy ways, stood up straight and cleared her throat. "Yes?"

"How are you feeling?" Said the nurse, moving the trolly closer to Aerith's bed, fiddling with a plastic lid -- possibly the cover of her night meal.

"I've been doing well, thank you," the slight tremble in her voice could be heard by even the nurse, whoever she was. To rectify this, Aerith did a stupid. "I'm fine, totally, I swear."

Which kind of sounded like a lie.

"I believe you, but I do want to make sure," said the Nurse, her voice flowing in a way that made Aerith know her lips were curled up in a smile. A tender, swooning smile at that. "Are you any hungry?"

No, really. The sudden struck of love was like a thunderbolt that struck viciously down upon the lost, vulnerable Aerith. A crack of its whip and she was under the control of love. However, as we are all dumb in love, Aerith nodded her head.

For two reasons: She still needed the meal and because that meant the nurse would assist.

This meant...

"I'll be glad to help you then, unless you want to learn--."

"No, I would like to not make a mess right now," Aerith said, good-humored by comparison to the other days where she was sullen and pessimistic.

"You're in a better mood, I see?" The nurse said, pulling the plastic stool closer, letting its feet drag across the floor and claw at it. She sat and grabed the silverware. "I was told you were feeling a little moody before." The motherly voice combined with the careful handling of the pork, knife and spoon -- all wrapped around a set of napkins -- had Aerith enchanted. A strange fascination which worried Aerith a little, not wanting it to turn perverse.

Or damn near lunatic.

"I-I," Aerith stuttered, adjusting up and feeling the table slide closer to her. "I guess I'm just used to this than before."

"It's not uncommon to feel upset."

Clink, clink, clink. The sound of moving plastic could be heard, but Aerith wasn't sure of what was happening.

"Have you handled many blind patients, Ms...?"

"Lockhart, but you can call me Tifa."

That's a name she'll remember, especially now that she has to train her senses to remember things, to liken faces to voices and the different, waving changes in voices to emotions. 

"And yes, I've dealt with a lot of patients who may have not lost their sight precisely, but have dealt with a loss on their own."

"Meaning?" Aerith was genuinely curious, feeling her eyebrows furrowing. It was strange to feel that and not see any improvement on her eyes, which she idiotically rubbed as a reaction to not being able to see. She rolled her eyes after that, noticing it was futile.

There was a soft pause before Tifa continued. "Losing your sight must be like losing an arm or the ability to move your legs, no?"

"Yeah... I believe so?"

"Then yes, I've dealt with many people enfuriated by their sudden handicap. One too many angry patients, but I cannot help but to empathize."

Instinctively, Aerith moved her arms and fingers, her feet and -- ouch, her ankle. She swallowed her wince and continued.

"Do they... get any better?"

"They eventually grow more accustomed to their conditions, yeah. Open."

Open?

Oh! 

Aerith opened her mouth, having not noted the sound of the fork lightly scratching the end of the plate. The mysterious mouthful went in and tasted of a nice, warm forkful of rice. A chunk of rice that Aerith took her time to chew -- petition by one of the nurses that told her to stop swallowing so fast. 

A soft heavenly giggle left Tifa, who seemed to blow some cold air onto the steaming bowl of soup.

After swallowing, Aerith felt the table, adjusted up again and tried to look in the general direction of the nurse. Still a little off, but getting there. "May I ask something weird?"

"To touch my face?"

Aerith stopped dead in her tracks, then she laughed softly. "Is that a normal request?"

"We encourage patients to experiment and to get familiar with things like that."

A little looser now, Aerith teases. "Then I don't sound like a freak?"

"No, you don't," said Tifa between laughter, which encouraged Aerith to do so as well. 

"Ah, dang it, I was kind of hoping to at least make an impression on you, however that might be."

Aw, Aerith was blushing now! The warmth on her cheek felt really good in contrast to the ruthless coldness of the room. Far better than the warmth of saltless soup.

The already soft voice of Tifa suddenly turned softer. "You're already making an impression, so no need."

A brief moment of silence, but Aerith could hear her smile somehow, hear the way she dipped her head down shyly.

"Open?"

"Opening!" Aerith cheerfully announced as she opened her mouth. Soft blowing braced Aerith for the spoonful of soup. It landed on her mouth, but this time it had a little bit of taste. It tickled just the right way at least.

"Is my impression a good one?"

Tifa hummed a little bit, strangely playful in its tone. "Maybe, maybe."

Far than a maybe, it was a rotound yes. Tifa would not mention it here, for the risk of ruining Aerith's good mood, but she was there with the other nurses when they first took the bandage off. To see Aerith's gorgeous face breaking down into a complex array of emotions was heartbreaking. To hear about the ire of such a sweet looking woman made her feel awful, and to see the sudden burst of tears she had after finding out the man who caused the shift of her destiny died? It completely impacted Tifa's life, in a strange way.

First, she recognized her attraction towards her patient, but secondly she saw a plethora of vulnerabilities in the first few days. She wanted, essentially, to protect her, to help her, to be around. A tender heart suddenly crashed against a concrete wall of pure coldness could only turn two ways; either it got stronger or it crumbled down to be a vile thing. In a way, Tifa feared for Aerith to turn this way.

"How can I make it a good one?"

Tifa was yanked back to where she was, idly stirring the hot soup. "Just keep smiling."

It was but a drifting thought without words, and yet it came out of her lips just right. The right words, the right tone, the precise timing. It gripped Aerith's heart and it made Tifa's own clamor wildly in euphoria. 

And of course, to comply, Aerith smiled wider.

"Okay," was the only thing she said.

In the silence between them after those words, there were a lot of feelings going around. Save for the soft 'Open' and 'opening', they didn't exchange anything else but tender smiles. One that Aerith could envision and one that Tifa was very blessed to see. The blind girl's lips were a little bruised at the perils, but looked so tender and kissable. In Aerith's mind, the caring nurse's pair look so luscious and tantalizing. Probably tastier than the soup.

Right then, Aerith gained a courage she didn't know she had.

"Want to go out sometime?"


	2. Aeterna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to post this short little update. I wrote this a while ago, haven't been able to finish it but I owe it to you guys.

“I would love to.”

Aerith opened her eyes and saw nothing, but this time the usual panic that this brought was no longer there, rather a lingering and peaceful realization that this was to be her life from now on. The sadness that once clouded her thoughts dissipated and gave way to the daily list of things to do which was always plenty, especially after the accident. 

Her body moved to her command, her muscles shaking away the slumber and blaring alerts all over her limbs to follow suit. Wake up, everyone! It's time to move. Feet felt the cozy blankets pooled around by the end of the bed, dramatically fallen down and hanging onto the edge of the bed; Aerith’s stretching hands felt the wooden board -- colder than the room itself -- and then palmed about to the empty spot on her double bed. Feeling no blankets, no phone or anything besides her, she finally sat up. Nothing out of order, nothing that could get on the way and fall as she slid of. And no one, for that matter.

Despite having lost her sight three months ago, she was still getting used to the daily life without a sight. The way her toes poked around the ground and the way they grazed lightly across the perimeter was one of the first things she had to learn how to do every morning, because she has already tripped once. It was a harmless trip with a painful thud reverberating across the wooden flooring, but nothing that didn't make Aerith determined to stand back up. The amount of times she has tripped on her own shoes carelessly placed around the house was astounding and despite the adorable tantrum, she knew she had no one to blame for herself on that front. The amount of times she has miscounted and bumped onto the corner of the wall was equally astounding, but to be expected. After all, this was all part of the process of re-learning. She also almost brushed her teeth with her body lotion one time -- blame that on being half asleep and late for her appointments -- which was both hilarious and concerning. However, that was bound to happen one way or the other. It would all have ot happen until she learned her painful lessons. This was her new life, and that entailed a good chunk of changes.

Aerith was learning how to see with her feet and fingertips, learning how to sense with that strange paranormal sense she felt she had, but she quickly realized it was far more than just that. It was about being aware of what she was doing, where she was placing things, where she was going; she suddenly had to remember her house in total detail and count meticulously the trek from the door to the bedroom, or the bedroom to the bathroom. After that, it was understanding the streets, counting steps and somehow not getting uncomfortable at the strange movement of the elevator which she now felt all over her body fully. Overwhelming, very overwhelming. 

It was, in essence, a huge sudden puzzle that she needed to put together. Through trial and error, or through sheer might. She listened more carefully now, was more mindful of the way she carried things in public and where she left anything -- standing on the train with her bag tightly clutched against her chest to make sure nothing or no one dared to pickpocket the blind, and even in the bus she held on tightly to her cane, her belongings and did not give for a second, even less in the streets. It could only take a second for her belongings to all be compromised, especially when all she could hear was the jaded breath, the hurrying footsteps, the clamoring of the public (while they did nothing) and the ill intentions. It had been tough, of course. Missing items here and there always turned out to be annoying, realizing she left a shopping bag in the bus was also incredibly grating, but all of that came with practice and with the baby steps of blindhood.

In addition, she went from only eating her meals and soups to truly tasting every ounce of spice and taste; she went from idly listening to records to truly embodying and living them, feeling the way the beats slammed off the walls and bounced about like rowdy children playing about. Along with that came the little enjoyments in life like the chirping birds outside, the old man next door practicing the ukulele and the way the microwave hummed away the afternoon with popcorn or ramen twirling inside of it. She also came to realize that her strange ability to even sense colors was further refined, her fingertips being able to tell which one of the bowls was the red one or which one was the dark red one, the little dents in the flowery design helped her recognize which bowl she wanted to use for her extra sugary cereal, which one to use for soup, and which bowl was the nostalgic one that must be protected at all cost.

It was all surprising to her friends that came to visit, this time a lot more animated and very happy to see the cheeky, little ball of sunshine walking and talking again -- like nothing had ever happened.

And I know what you're wondering, so let me get to that.

Aerith's stay in the hospital was a brief one, especially after the encounter with the angelical voice and the tender face she painted atop of that voice. The busy nurse only could come to bid a quick farewell to the new Aerith, who had just been released and was being helped up by the group of friends who Tifa would have never imagined together. A brooding vampire-esque guy (If... that makes any sense), a hyper girl that was very happily introducing herself to the nearby nurses as Yuffie, a blonde old guy that had the laugh of a chain smoker, a gargantuan man with a prosthetic arm who was willing to carry the stubborn Aerith who was adamant on making her way out of the hospital with her own two feet -- well one, since the other one was still bandaged -- and a very quiet, shy blonde man with spiky hair that was oddly familiar. In the brief moment that they were all there, Tifa bandied words with them as they prepared Aerith for her departure and they were all incredibly nice and polite -- well, save for the chain smoker guy (Cid, was it?), who was really boisterous but quite funny in his accent. 

But something very interesting happened, beneath the table and when no one was looking. Aerith, quite cheeky as always and quite sneakily, had written her name, her phone number and a small little message ending with a heart supposedly meant to replace the period. Instead, it was all a bit disjointed, with too much space at some spots but no space at all in others. What mattered was that the number was meticulously written, intact and pristine, as if Aerith had thought of the wild possibility of her screwing the writing up -- which she did. Tifa could only get the vaguest idea of what the message meant, but preferred to leave it up in that intimate, bizarre dialect.

And so, in this very morning we're seeing Aerith again, her phone -- tucked nicely on the corner of her drawer -- vibrated eagerly and announced its presence, demanding attention from the chipper Aerith that had just freshly stepped out of the bathroom, furiously towelling her damp, coiling tresses until she heard the ringtone blaring loudly from the drawer again. The ringtone only sounded for two seconds maximum, but it clicked every switch in her brain. She quite literally dropped everything and dashed on over! Though still counting her steps and minding her long strides, the sightless eyes attempted to look around as if that was going to help.

Catching a feel for the wooden, cold drawer, she felt for the drawer, pulled it out and could hear the now unmuffled sound of her phone being bombarded with messages. Finally, she grabbed the vibrating phone in her hand and began slowly maneuvering it. You probably didn't think of that, did you? How do you navigate a phone while blind? Cellphones, especially, being the most visual thing in modern technology. Aerith didn't think of it either, just like she didn't think of all her books becoming completely obsolete by the time she returned home. When she grabbed her phone for the first time and felt its familiar touch against her palm, its warmth, it then clicked in her head. With a soft 'Oh' she realized that she would have to learn yet another thing from scratch.

Luckily, her friends have all thought of it, opting to send voice messages rather than images or text -- even going so far as sharing a meme or two then narrating it through a voice message. In theory, sounds adorable and nice, but it could get messy in practice when the 'hot, lit memes' suddenly had no meaning because there was no proper way to explain the 'friedness' (as Zack so eloquently put, receiving a shake of heads from his very boyfriend, Cloud) of the meme and why it was funny. For example, explaining the very obscene meme of 'Go Piss, Girl' flew over her head hilariously, especially when she could not understand what it was referencing. Cid had been trying to explain to her why it was funny for quite a while, resulting in several voice messages spanning as far as two minutes long, followed by a quick incision of thirty seconds. All of those messages were filled with soft chuckles he was trying to restrain.

So, the blind angel expected the voice message to be from the very funny Cid. Until she heard a soft voice speaking to her, very politely and very tender. Quite unlike the blunt Cid who was loud.

"Good morning, Aerith. How are you doing today?" 

Tifa Lockhart's voice through the phone was still, in effect, as powerful as it was in person and her soothing nature translated well through the phone. A quiet atmosphere, a dash of morning voice with a hint of sexy huskiness that made Aerith blush with all the imagery that flashed before her blind eyes.

"I'm sorry to be bothering you so early in the morning, but last night I, like, completely passed out the moment I hit the bed."

A soft giggle, even through the phone, still got Aerith lightly quivering.

"I was wondering that, if you're not busy, maybe we can hang out today? Get a coffee or the sorts?"

Aerith felt her smile too big to fit on her face, but she could not help herself. She felt her heart fluttering and could totally imagine it leaping and skipping about. Ever since Tifa accepted hanging out sometime after Aerith recovered and adjusted to her new life, Aerith awaited for her call or her message that would make her feel that same addictive lightness she felt all over her body -- that caress, that feathery touch, of a blooming attraction.

With a tap and a soft sigh, Aerith began recording her voice message.

The date was a go and Aerith made it clear where she wanted it to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next part will come eventually, hopefully soon!

**Author's Note:**

> What do you guys think? If you want me to continue writing this, let me know!


End file.
